


Blind Date

by theoofoof



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry is set up on a blind date, it’s make or break time for his ‘relationship’ with Ruth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Spooks or any of the characters or dialogue you may recognise. They all belong to Kudos/BBC. 
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net - polished up and reposted here.

_Monday, 2.45pm_

Ruth has just finished her weekly threat assessment; there’s nothing major on there, just the usual assortment of mercenaries and nutcases. Still, she must sign it and deliver it to Harry before his meeting with the home secretary. Hitting the print button, she looks over at Harry’s office; he’s on the phone and his face is making it quite obvious that there are several other places he would much rather be. She reaches over and retrieves the pages from the printer before signing them with a flurry of her pen; if she takes these too him now perhaps she can rescue him from the nightmare of his phone call.

They’ve been doing a lot of that lately; rescuing each other. He’d helped her when her kitchen tap had sprung a leak and when she’d needed help assembling a flat-packed chest of drawers. She’d helped him choose a birthday gift for Catherine as well as walking Scarlett when he’d twisted his ankle whilst in the field.

In the months since Danny’s death the two of them have become closer; his offer of a lift to the church and the way they sat quietly in the car beforehand, him whispering soft words of comfort, had been the beginning of the transition from colleagues to friends. They’ve shared several evenings in each other’s company, usually after one of their ‘rescues’ or after a long day at work, when they’ve been left alone on the Grid, after everyone else has gone home.

She has learnt much about him in these moments and, although he hasn’t lead a blameless life, she finds herself admiring him for being able to make the sacrifices and choices he has made for the love of his country. And she now considers Harry to be a close friend. Maybe even more. If she’s honest, she knows that deep down her feelings for Harry have become more than platonic, she is falling for him. She won’t tell him though; she hasn’t got the confidence. She can only hope as they spend more time together, he will come to realise how good they could be together.

She enters his office without knocking, as has become customary for them, just as Harry is finishing his phone call.

“Yes I know that but…” The other participant in the conversation obviously gives a reply Harry doesn’t like as he rolls his eyes. “Okay… Yes, I’ll give her a call… Yeah, you too. Bye.”

“Everything okay?” Ruth asks as he puts the phone down, expecting him to launch into a rant about the Home Secretary or the Americans, maybe even the Russians. She certainly isn’t expecting to hear his next words.

“My father, in his infinite wisdom, has decided to set me up on a blind date.” Ruth can’t help the smirk that starts to form at the thought. “Laugh and you’re straight back to GCHQ!” Harry threatens.

Ruth composes herself before she speaks again. “Sorry. I’m sure he’s only got your best interests at heart.”

“I know that,” Harry concedes. “He keeps going on about seeing me ‘with a good woman’ before he dies. But it’s still rather embarrassing to have your father get you a date.”

“True,” Ruth agrees, before her curiosity gets the better of her. “So… who is she?”

“Her name is Caroline Southern; she’s a university lecturer. She’s the daughter of a couple he knows from back home in Kent. She’s coming to London this weekend for work and he’s…”

“…suggested you take her out?” She is still struggling to contain her amusement.

“I’m not sure suggested is the right word. Forced might be a more appropriate adjective.”

“I’m sure she’s nice enough,” Ruth comments. “Your father is hardly likely to set you up with a lunatic, is he?” She’s trying to cheer him up, make him see the funny side but it backfires.

“You think I should go?” Harry asks.

“I…” Ruth is taken aback by the idea that Harry is actually considering going along with his father’s plan. She thought he’d just brush his father off and tell him to stop interfering in his life, or something along those lines. But it appears no; he is actually thinking about it.

She wants to tell him not to go; to confess her feelings for him but she can’t. She realises she gone and dug herself a hole she can’t quite get out of without revealing too much. “If you want to…” she replies weakly. She leaves the statement hanging, hoping that he’ll somehow sense her real feelings on the subject.

“You know what Ruth, you’re right; I’m sure she’ll be very pleasant. I think I will go. Thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome.”

“Did you want me for anything in particular?” he asks when she continues to stand there holding the manila folder.

“Oh, erm… I just brought you the threat assessment.”

“Anything pressing?”

“Not so far,” she informs him. A silence falls, but unlike the usual silences that occur between them, this one is filled with awkwardness and Ruth feels the need to get out. “Right, well I- I’d best get on.”

Harry doesn’t seem to notice her discomfort, and merely nods as she leaves, before picking up the phone and dealing a number. As she reaches his door, she hears him say, “Caroline? It’s Harry Pearce? I believe you’ve been expecting my call…”

Ruth squeezes her eyes shut to stop the hot tears leaking onto her cheeks as she rushes out of his office. She feels like a complete fool; what an idiot she has been.

* * *

_Wednesday, 10.35pm_

Harry walks through the pods wearily; it’s been a long JIC meeting and he feels drained. He is sick to the back teeth of politicians throwing their weight around. He looks around the Grid; it’s practically empty, except for a solitary light. The sight of that lamp shining lifts his spirits immensely; it means Ruth is still there.

He approaches her desk; she’s bent over a file and completely unaware of his presence. He takes a moment to watch her; and wonders for a moment why on earth he’s agreed to go on this date on Saturday, when he’s developed feelings for his analyst.

‘ _Because she as good as told you too.’_ a little voice inside his head tells him. _‘Because she wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot barge pole_. _She knows too much about you and your past.’_

Realising that that’s probably true; what would someone like Ruth want with an old man like him, he sighs, catching Ruth’s attention.

“H-Harry? I didn’t hear the pods. How was the JIC?”

“I hate politicians. I could do with a drink. Fancy joining me?” He gestures to his office, where a bottle of whisky lies in his desk drawer. It’s a routine they have engaged in on many a night, so Harry thinks nothing of his offer.

Ruth wants nothing more than to accept his invitation and retreat into the sanctuary of his office with him, but she knows that she can’t. For her own sanity, she’s decided that she needs to put some distance between them and sort out her feelings for him. “I can’t tonight. Sorry. I need to get home.”

She stands and picks up her coat and bag. She knows if she hesitates, if she gives him chance to try and talk her round she knows she will succumb to his charms. “Another time maybe?” he calls after her, as she walks towards the pods.

“Yeah, maybe,” she replies without looking back.

Harry is a little miffed by the rebuttal but thinks nothing of it. However, she continues to avoid him and brush him off on several occasions throughout the week and on a couple of occasions is even quite short with him which is most unlike her. When Saturday morning comes and goes without the customary text from Ruth, Harry is completely perplexed by her behaviour and wonders what he could possibly have done wrong. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though; he has a date to prepare for.


	2. Chapter 2

_Saturday, 5.00pm_

Ruth tries to keep busy on the Saturday, not wanting to allow herself time to think about Harry’s ‘date’. She spends the morning shopping and then entertains her mother for part of the afternoon, and doesn’t think about Harry once. But then, around five o’clock, she finds herself alone. She tries to read but inevitably her thoughts soon turn to Harry. She feels guilty for the way she has treated him over the past few days. She’s been distant and snappy with him since he’d said he was going to go on this date and she knows it’s unfair. After all, she has no claim on him and she’d treated the situation as a bit of a joke, not actually expecting him to agree to go.

A little voice in her brain pipes up, ‘ _No, you thought he would turn down a perfectly reasonable offer of a date when you’ve given him no idea at all of your feelings for him._ ’

She shakes her head to rid herself of the voice; the last thing she needs is an inner monologue reminding her of all her failings. She looks at the clock and wonders what time his date is and whether or not he will be getting ready yet. She pictures him showering, shaving, selecting his clothes; wondering what he will choose to wear. She likes him in a blue shirt, but doesn’t wish him to wear it for his outing this evening in case his date feels the same way. It does make him look rather handsome after all.

Suddenly, she feels jealousy well up inside of her and she groans. She’s blown it. She’s fallen in love with her boss and has been too scared to act on it, allowing someone else to swoop in and take him from her. Part of her argues that Harry would be better off with this Caroline woman; there’d certainly be none of the complications that come with an inter-office relationship, and besides, there’s no guarantee that he has any feelings for her. If he had, why would he have gone on the date?

‘ _Because you hadn’t given him any inkling you felt anything for him?_ ’ the little voice reiterates. ‘ _He’s your boss, if he approaches you and you don’t feel the same way, he could be facing a sexual harassment charge._ ’

Ruth concedes that her inner voice may have a point.

‘ _If you’d just told him how you felt then you’d probably be the one out with him tonight_ ,’ the voice taunts. ‘ _Or maybe you’d have stayed in? A nice cosy night in front of the fire… who knows where that might have lead? To bed probably. Let’s just hope he doesn’t end up there with someone else tonight, eh?_ ’

Ruth squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the images and heads for her kitchen. She needs to stop thinking about him, about his date; she needs to keep busy. Deciding that her cupboards are in desperate need of a clean, she rises from the sofa to get to work.

* * *

_Saturday, 7.28pm_

Harry enters the restaurant and announces himself to the maître d’. He is informed that his companion has already arrived and is promptly shown to the table. The lady awaiting him stands and greets him. She is wearing a red dress that clings to her figure and is cut so it gives a tantalising view of her cleavage. Her long blonde tresses are piled in soft curls, with wispy strands falling to frame her face. He can’t deny she’s an attractive woman, but he doesn’t desire her; he’s found recently that he much prefers brunettes. Well, one brunette in particular.

“Harry?” his date enquires, pulling him from his thoughts.

He nods. “Caroline?” He shakes her hand and they exchange further pleasantries as they take their seats.

They order some drinks and peruse the menu, making small talk about what they might order. Once they have placed their order Caroline asks him, “So Harry, what do you do for a living? Your father mentioned something about the Government?”

Harry groans internally; his father has never been one for secrets. “I work for the Department for the Environment, Food and Rural Affairs,” he lies easily.

“Oh, how interesting,” she gushes. He is surprised at her reaction; DEFRA rarely makes an impact; not as exciting as working for the ‘The Foreign Office’. She smiles, having noticed his surprise. “I may not look like it, but I grew up on a farm,” she explains.

“Really?” he replies whilst slightly panicking inside. He doesn’t know enough about the environment to sustain any deep conversation. Especially not with someone who has ‘inside’ knowledge.

“Oh yes. My father was heavily involved with the NFU and MAFF back in the day.”

Harry wracks his brain, trying to decipher the acronyms. He wishes Ruth were here, she’d know what Caroline was talking about.

Caroline takes in his blank expression. “Harry, are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he replies, refocusing on the conversation. “It’s been a busy week. You were saying?”

“I was telling you how my Dad had been involved with the National Farmers Union back in the 70s.

“Ah yes,” he replies nodding. The National Farmers Union. He should have known that; Ruth would have known.

Caroline continues talking but Harry zones out; his thoughts once again turning to Ruth. He begins to imagine what it would be like to have her siting opposite him instead of Caroline. What would they talk about? Whatever it would be, he was sure she’d be passionate about it. What would she wear, he wondered. He doubted it would be anything as revealing as Caroline’s dress; she isn’t one for flaunting herself in such a way. She doesn’t need to; she looks beautiful in whatever she wears. She looks especially beautiful when he looks up from his desk late at night and she is still there, working late, bathed in only the light of her desk lamp. The way she worries her bottom lip with her teeth when she’s trying to work something out, or the way her eyes light up triumphantly when she finally figures it out; he loves those. He looks forward to those moments almost as much as the times she barges into his office without knocking; quite often flustered or babbling about a discovery she’s made. Oh yes, those are by far his favourite moments with her on the Grid.

Recently they’ve been spending more time together off the Grid too; he’d sought out her advice when trying to choose a birthday present for Catherine.  She’d also been invaluable by walking Scarlett for him when he’d come a cropper whilst on an operation a few months ago. He’d been chasing a suspect and tripped over a raised curb, twisting his knee.  He’d given her a hand with some things too; he’d fixed a leaky tap and had gone round one Saturday to help her put together some flat pack furniture; it had taken them nearly two hours to put together one drawer!  That had been and amusing and memorable afternoon. He’d enjoyed those times with her, and he thought she had too. Even if nothing would ever come of it; after all, she’d near enough told him to come on this date tonight.

What he can’t understand is the sudden change in behaviour since then; why she is suddenly averse to spending any time with him. He’s made various overtures towards her over the past three days and she has brushed him off every time. He assumes he must have done something to offend but he’s damned if he can figure out what. He would have asked Ruth outright, if he gotten the chance to speak to her alone. Every time they needed to engage in conversation, she always seemed to be in the company of someone else. Either that, or as soon as they had finished their work-related conversation, she would leave his immediate vicinity.

When the waiter arrives with their starters of melon and pate respectively, Harry realises that he’s once again gotten lost in his thoughts and has been neglecting his date. He looks sheepishly at her.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here Harry and say that your hearts not really in this, is it?” Caroline says.

Harry sighs. “Not really. I am sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offers.

Normally he’d say no but for some reason he finds himself telling her about Ruth; how close they’d become and about how distant she’d been since he told her about his plans for tonight.

Caroline watches Harry in silence, noting the way his face softens as he talks about Ruth; the faint smile that curves the corners of his lips. “The reason for her behaviour seems pretty obvious to me,” she tells him.

“Well I’ve never been one for understanding women,” he admits, “so if you fancy helping me out…”

“She’s jealous, Harry. She's upset because you're out on a date with me instead of with her,” Caroline explains.

Harry’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head slightly. “We’re colleagues, friends. That’s all,” he protests.

Caroline eyes him sceptically. “But is that all she wants? Is that all you want?” Harry considers his date’s words for a few moments, wondering how she can possibly know that. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” she asks.

Harry is lost for words. He can’t believe he is having this conversation. “I… “

“You don’t have to admit it to me, Harry. I mean, why would you? You only met me forty minutes ago. But it’s blindingly obvious from the way you talk about her. You need to admit it to yourself and to her.”

“She doesn’t feel the same way,” Harry tells her. “She all but talked me to coming tonight.”

Caroline is surprised by this. “Did she? Did she actually say she wanted you to meet me tonight?”

Harry recalls the conversation. “Well not in so many words but-”

“Harry. Trust me. She’s trying to distance herself from you; thinking you feel nothing for her. She doesn’t want to get hurt anymore. You need to tell her how you feel. Go to her.”

“Now? I… I can’t just leave. What about you?”

“I’ll be fine; I’m a big girl. And besides, I know better than to try and complete with someone who’s already stolen your heart. Go,” she urges.

Harry stands and puts on his jacket. He fishes some money from his pocket and puts it down on the table to cover the cost of their meal. “I really am sorry,” he repeats.

“It’s fine,” she assures. “Be sure to let me know how it goes!”

Harry nods before striding purposefully out of the restaurant; there’s someone he needs to see.


	3. Chapter 3

_Saturday, 8.45pm_

Harry pulls up outside Ruth’s house and turns of the ignition. When the engine dies he sits there in the darkness, thinking.

_‘What on earth do I say to her?’_

He sighs and rubs her eyes; there has been nothing spoken between them about their feelings. Sometimes he has caught her watching him from across the Grid, turning just in time to see her duck her head and bury her head in the files. He had told himself he’d been imagining it, but now for the first time he allowed himself to consider another possibility. He is in love with her, was it possible that she returns his feelings. Could she be in love with him too? What if Caroline’s got it wrong and she’s not; he could be about to make a complete fool of himself.

So he sits in there in the car, wondering what to do next. Can he really just walk up to her front door and tell her? Just out of the blue like that? What will she say?

He could just start the car again and go home, but now he’s finally admitted his feelings to himself, he knows he won’t be able to settle until he’s spoken to her. He can’t leave this unsaid. So, steeling himself, he gets out of the car and makes his way up her garden path.

* * *

Ruth is on her hands and knees scrubbing at a particularly stubborn pasta sauce stain when the doorbell rings. She looks down at her attire; she’s changed into leggings and an old, baggy t-shirt to tackle her kitchen, and she knows her hair, pulled into a quick ponytail, is probably now all askew, so she decides that whoever it is can wait. Another hard scrub with the sponge and the stain comes free. She sighs in satisfaction and stands to retrieve the mop. As she does so, the bell chimes a second time, so she dries her hands on a nearby tea-towel and moves to answer the door.

Harry is stood on the other side of the threshold, wearing a light jacket, grey dress pants and the blue shirt she loves so.

“Harry! What are you doing here?” She is surprised to see him, considering tonight was his date, not that she’s going to let know that she’s keeping tabs on his social calendar. She sees him look her up and down curiously and feels she needs to justify her current state of dress. “I-I’m in the middle of cleaning my kitchen floor.”

“Should I come back later?” he asks, his nerve failing him.

Ruth shakes her head and steps back to allow him in. “Don’t be daft.”

He sheds his jacket and hangs it over the bannister in an ever familiar gesture and follows her through to the kitchen. “I’m going to have to finish mopping,” she tells him, “or the detergent I’ve put down will dry up.”

He nods at her; maybe it will be easier for him to say what he needs to say if she’s busy. He won’t feel as exposed.

“I’d offer you a seat,” Ruth continues, “but I’d only have to ask you to move once I get to mopping under the table.” She lifts the mop from the bucket and wrings it out before continuing with her cleaning. “So what can I do for you?” she says as she sweeps the mop across the floor.

“I went on that blind date tonight,” he says.

“Oh, was that tonight?” she asks, feigning ignorance. “You’re back early then aren’t you? Did it not go well?” She tries to keep the hope from her voice.

“You could say that. I mean, she was nice enough and quite attractive but…”

Ruth bristles slightly at the talk of Harry finding this woman attractive but he’s too busy concentrating on what he should say next to notice.

“Well, it was me you see. I was distracted and by the time our starter had arrived she could tell my heart wasn’t in it and called me on it.” He takes a deep breath. “I was forced to admit what I had been hiding from for some time; that my heart already belongs to someone else.”

She stops mopping, but doesn’t not look at him; instead finding much interest in the water in the bucket. “Oh?”

Seeing her reaction, he is filled with hope and the words come easily as his nerves disappear. “Someone who I’ve found myself spending more and more time with of late. Someone who’s conversation I enjoy, but who also understands the need sometimes for quiet.” He approaches her quietly, so as not to startle her. “Someone with a gentle sense of humour. Principled but not foolish or naive.”

“G-good qualities.” Her grip on the mop tightens; his proximity making her slightly dizzy with anticipation.

“You don’t often find them in one person,” he says, putting two fingers under her chin and tilting her face upwards. He holds her gaze for a moment and her hearts begins to pound. He leans into her slowly, allowing her to back away if this isn’t what she wants. She doesn’t though; she’s frozen to the spot, barely able to believe that he is about to kiss her. Their lips brush; barely touching before Harry pulls back slightly, awaiting her reaction.

Ruth smiles up at him and, letting the mop fall to the floor, wraps her arms around his neck.  He leans back in and captures her lips with his. Their noses bump slightly this time but neither care. Their kiss is warm and inviting. A kiss that, just as it is ending, leads to a second one with slightly more pressure, which leads to a third before Harry forces himself to pull away.

“Is this okay?”

“If it wasn’t I’d have punched you by now,” she teases. Harry smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you mock; I have a pretty handy right hook, thanks to that self-defence course you sent me on.”

“I thought you preferred to use a tree branch.”

Ruth blushes and hides her face in his chest. “I still can’t believe Adam told you about that.”

“We’ve gotten of topic,” he reminds her.

She raises her head once more and meets his eyes. “So we have. Yes it’s okay. It’s more than okay. Over the past few months I’ve found myself… found my feelings for you changing,” she admits.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in me.” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Ruth continues. “I know your history with women Harry; glamorous, confident, beautiful. I’m none of those things.”

“I’ve been interested in you for a good while now; I was just scared of making a fool out of myself.”

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“Hmm. Well matched, I’d say,” Harry replies. “And just for the record, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he tells her truthfully, punctuating his point with another brief kiss. “Even after you’ve been cleaning the kitchen.”

“I was trying to keep my mind off your date,” she explains.

He nods knowingly. “I’m glad I went,” he tells her. She pulls away from him in surprise and he is quick to explain. “If I hadn’t, goodness knows how long we’d have both danced around our feelings.”

Satisfied with his reasoning, she relaxes back into him. “That’s true I suppose.”

“So, can I take you out to dinner then?” Harry asks.

Ruth looks down at herself. “Now? I’m a mess.”

“We could stay in, if you’d prefer. I can go and pick us up a takeaway and a bottle of wine?”

“Sounds perfect,” she agrees and as they embrace once more, Ruth sends a silent thank you to Harry’s father and Caroline for their actions and for inadvertently bringing them together.


	4. Epilogue

_10 months later…_

Caroline Southern opens her front door after a long, tiring day collecting the post off the door mat as she enters. She sheds her coat and fingers through the mail; Junk, phone bill, junk, another bill, more junk. She’s just about the throw the lot on the hallway table when she comes across a high quality, ivory coloured envelope, with her address neatly written on the front. Her curiosity is piqued so, discarding the rest of the post, she opens the handwritten envelope. Inside is a small card and as she reads it’s contents, a smile forms on her face.

* * *

WEDDING INVITATION

 _Harry James Pearce_  
&  
Ruth Evershed

request the pleasure of the company of

_Caroline Southern & guest_

to celebrate their marriage

at: The Manor by the Lake, Cheltenham  
on: Saturday 8th June  
at: 2.30pm

RSVP: 18 Hamilton Road, Ealing, London W5 2EH (0207 213 3314)  
by 13th April

* * *

 _‘Well, they kept that quiet,’_ she thinks to herself, wondering how long they had been engaged and how it was that she didn’t know about it. In the months since their ‘date’ she had kept in contact with Harry, and Ruth, and they had formed a good friendship.

Harry had phoned her a couple of days after he’d left her in the restaurant to apologise once again for his behaviour and to tell her that, thanks to her advice, he and Ruth were now pursuing a romantic relationship. Two months later, she’d met Ruth at Harry’s father’s 70th birthday party. She could tell the two of them were very much in love and, even though Caroline would have liked to given a relationship with Harry a chance, she was very happy for them. From the moment Harry had started talking about Ruth, it had been clear there was never going to be any chance for anyone else.

Surprisingly, she and Ruth had hit it off and Caroline had joked that if Harry ever proposed she thought she should have an invitation to the wedding… after all, if it wasn’t for her, they may never have gotten together. Ruth had agreed with a laugh, just as Harry had approached enquiring as to what all the hilarity was about. Neither Ruth nor Caroline would tell him; though Caroline expects he must know now. Since then, circumstances have brought them together on several occasions, allowing them time to build their friendship

She reads the invitation once more, ‘Caroline Southern & guest’ it says. They don’t know it yet, but it is thanks to Harry and Ruth that she now has someone who can fulfil the role of ‘guest’ very well indeed. Their relationship is quite new and they haven’t ‘gone public’ about it as yet, not even to Harry and Ruth, hence why his name isn’t on her invitation. He’ll have one of his own though, and she wonders if his will also offer an invitation for a ‘guest’.

She had met him at Ruth’s birthday party and they had spoken at length about several things; music, books, the theatre. He’d offered to drive her back to her hotel after the party and they had exchanged numbers. He’d called her two days later and arranged to meet for a drink. Their relationship had been slow-burning; it had taken several dates before he’d kissed her and they’d only recently begun taking tentative steps towards advancing the physical side of their relationship.  But it doesn’t seem to matter; his old-fashioned, somewhat reserved attitude is a refreshing change from most men she meets.

Caroline pictures Harry and Ruth’s faces when they find out that they will be each other’s guests. Thinking of the new man in her life, she is no longer tired and feels the need to hear his voice. It’s been almost a week since she’d seen him; due to work commitments on both their ends. She also wants to hear his reaction to their friends’ news and see how much he knew about it.

Fingering the invitation lightly, she picks up the phone. It rings three times before he answers.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me,” she greets

“Hello darling,” he replies and she smiles at the endearment. “How are you?” he asks.

“I’m good. Tired, but good. Listen Malcolm, have you looked at your post today…?”


End file.
